This morning

I'm sore and achy - slept with too much tension.
Stepping along uphill to the subway as fast as I can,
but, I have to relinquish my outside lane.
I'm on the slow track this morning.

This week I walked past a film set.
The trailer doors had labels:
Costuming.
George.
Gracie.
Dead body.

Pass the Experience God sign at St. Barts.
Pray that I do.

I walk past an art gallery.
The splash of color and
Definiteness of shape
awaken and sustain.

I go inside the building where HP has offices.
I am always intimidated on the elevator.
We share the space with Saks fashionistas
And investment bankers with personal shoppers.
Even on my good days, when I try to dress the part,
I'm no fashionplate.
My wardrobe is better suited for teleworking.

It doesn't help that the inside walls of the elevator are entirely mirrored.
No escape for those who'd rather be oblivious.
A city of mirrors for the obsessively image conscious.

In the office, I look across and see a lush area, trees and grass with bushes.
From here, it looks more natural than the other rooftop gardens.But this forest is 18 stories in the air.